


hit where it hurts for silver and gold

by eleven_twelve



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, im too soft for these boys, its okay tho, its too sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 22:52:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10626807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleven_twelve/pseuds/eleven_twelve
Summary: The phoenix feather in the core of their wands connects them, but that's apparently all they have in common. (Except that Donghyuck seems to be made of gold and Mark has always had a thing for him.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> snippets from their years at hogwarts

 

I.

It's nearing the end of July when the letter arrives, not in the postbox like any other letter would, but in the beak of a large grey owl with yellow eyes that seem to stare straight into Mark's soul. He doesn't tell his parents about it, but he tells his neighbour Yerim, who co-incidentally receives an exact copy of the yellowed parchment two days later.  

"It's from Hogwarts, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Yerim's mother explains, eyes twinkling with the excitement that had settled over her the second she saw the owl on Mark's windowsill from across the street, "That's where you can go to learn to get your magic under control."  

Mark's mouth falls wide open at her words, Yerim looks unimpressed. "I have to go to school for that?" She asks her mother in a whiny voice, the latter just smiles and strokes her daughter's long black hair. Mark doesn't understand a thing. 

Yerim's mother seems to pick up on his confusion and motions for him to follow her to the second story of their large house (Mark was never allowed to come up there, but Yerim's bedroom was on the ground floor so he never asked a lot of questions anyways). "I'm a witch," she tells him, as she opens the worn leather cover of a seemingly ancient book and picks a stick up from the table, "Not the kind of witch that owns a thousand cats and flies a broomstick through the night like the ones in movies and stories or anything, but just a female wizard." She turns to look at a broomstick that’s hanging on the dark brown wall behind them, "Although I do tend to do those things," she whispers quietly, to herself maybe, but Mark hears it nevertheless. 

"A witch?" Mark asks, astonished, he doesn't know what to make of it. Yerim nods, "I'm a witch too," she says, "and you're a wizard, apparently." Mark shakes his head, tries to get a hold of the thoughts swarming through his brain, "But how can I be a wizard if my parents aren't?" He questions, out of disbelief, although he can't help but feel a hint of curiosity blooming in the back of his head. "It happens sometimes," Yerim shrugs, "there are loads of muggle-borns out there, don't worry." She ruffles Mark's hair like she does to her little sisters, as if she isn't just a couple of months his senior. He lets her though, tries to let her distract him from the sudden shift in his life.  

\--- 

Mark's parents decide not to come along to Diagon Alley to purchase the list of school supplies he finds on the back of the letter, instead they trust Yerim's mother to take care of him while they go into town to buy Mark a cat as an early birthday present. ("There's a cat shop in Diagon Alley too," Yerim tells them, but Mark's father just smiles at her and politely declines her offer to come along. It will take them some time to warm up to the idea of Mark being a wizard, but if Mark could make them accept him wanting to become a rapper a year prior, then surely they could come to terms with the whole concept of magic.)  

They get there through some kind of apparition network that Yerim informs him they'll learn about in the coming years. Mark just closes his eyes in an in-between space and tries not to throw up.  

Diagon Alley is packed that day, the lines in the stores are long and loud, the people suffocating in the pressing heat of the high midsummer sun. Mark wipes the sweat from his sunburnt forehead as he waits in line in front of Ollivander's large storefront window. Inside he can see boxes lining up toward the ceiling, the whole shop filled to the brim with wooden wands and dust particles that dance in the golden sunlight.  

Yerim and her little sisters have gone to look at new brooms and Yerim's mother is having a conversation with a small man with pointy ears, dressed in silk from head to toe. Mark finds that he doesn't quite mind not having anyone to talk to, the loud buzz of the cheerful people around him enough to occupy his infatuated brain. (It's already hard enough to memorise all the new vocabulary he's learnt, let alone comprehend the way people can appear out of thin air.) 

When it's almost his turn to have a wand pick him, a boy about his age comes marching into the store, all proud posture and expensive clothing, followed by a boy who's desperately trying to get him back onto the street.  

"Donghyuck, come back," he says, calmly, but just loud enough to express authority, "You can't just cut the line like that, these people must've been waiting in the heat for hours." The younger boy, Donghyuck, turns to the older and scoffs, "Father said I could get my wand right now, Taeil, so I will get my wand right now." Mark is surprised at how soft the boy's voice is, seemingly not matching his sumptuous appearance, yet he feels annoyed at the other's self-indulgence.  

The old man behind the counter, Ollivander, Mark supposes, watches the scene unfold before him with a content smile on his wrinkled face. He lets the two brothers bicker back and forth for a good two minutes before interrupting them with a flick of his wand and a hand in the air. "Taeil, my boy, it's indeed true that your father asked me to let your brother have his wand today." The older one sighs and opens his mouth to argue, "With all due respect, mister Ollivander," he says softly, "But Donghyuck here needs to learn to wait his turn." Donghyuck sticks his tongue out at which Taeil rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Fine then," he says, "But this is the last time." Both Donghyuck and the old man turn to look at each other with a hint of victory in the smiles that overtake their faces. 

"I'm just going to let this young man have his wand pick him and then it's your turn mister Lee," Ollivander says, pointing the end of his wand at Mark. Donghyuck nods, seemingly pleased with this incredibly unfair deal and looks in Mark's direction with an expectant expression. 

After a couple of quick swishes with several non-fitting wands, Mark ends up with a dark brown copy of Yerim's wand, except his is filled with phoenix feather instead of Yerim's dragon heartstring. It feels warm in his hand, familiar, like it has always belonged (Mark supposes that it has).  

A poke in his back distracts him from the piece of himself in his hand and he spins on his heel to find the boy from before on the other side of the wand currently prodding his chest. "We're phoenix feather core buddies," he tells Mark, as if the latter has any idea as to what that's supposed to mean. "Is that rare?" He asks, squinting to dodge the reflection of the sun in Donghyuck's golden pendant. "Quite," the other says, being pushed out of the door by his older brother, "See you at Hogwarts," he yells, "My name is Donghyuck!"  

Mark stays where he's standing in the doorway of Ollivanders, watches the two brothers go until they've been swallowed by the crowds in the street. "I'm Mark," he tries to yell back, but Donghyuck is already out of hearing distance, dark hair shining under the bright sun the last thing Mark can see of him. 

\--- 

The Hogwarts Express is the first steam train Mark has ever seen. His father, a rolling stock engineer can't stop blabbing on about the outstanding condition it's in. Mark just rolls his eyes and smiles, can't believe that he, as the child of an engineer and a biochemist turned out to be a wizard.  

He waves his parents goodbye from the train window, throws his mother a hand kiss as she wipes her tears with a handkerchief. "See you for Christmas!" He shouts, words already being taken away by the warm September wind.  

\--- 

After a day on the train, talking to Yerim and two other boys whose names he's forgotten, Mark feels like he's going to die from hunger. "When are we eating?" He whines and Yerim shoots him a disapproving look. "The feast begins after the sorting ceremony, Mark, now shut up and stand up straight." Mark sighs, "Yes mom." 

The list of names being called out by the professor next to a chair in front of the whole school appears endless, but after what seems like forever they're on to the L and then a familiar name is called out.  

"Lee Donghyuck," the professor shouts, already shaking her head as the boy steps out of the line with his head held high. Mark looks up for the first time since the F's were called out, curious as to what house Lee Donghyuck belongs to (he's not very familiar with how the houses work but Yerim has told him some things about their major qualities).  

"Slytherin!" The hat yells out after a split second of being on top of the boy's dark brown hair. He smiles triumphantly and makes his way to the Slytherin table as his robes turn green and silver. Mark looks at him and Donghyuck catches his eyes and smiles brightly, throwing him a thumbs up. Mark's stomach flutters (from the nerves, he tells himself, although that wasn't the case before), he suddenly hopes to be placed in Slytherin too. 

When it's his turn two names later though, the hat almost immediately places him in Gryffindor. He looks over at the table, a moving mix of scarlet and gold, cheering for the newest member of their house. On the other side of the great hall Donghyuck's smile falters slightly, Mark notices but decides to think nothing of it, he barely knows the other anyway. 

Yerim gets placed into Hufflepuff house and is welcomed by a group of kids who put a yellow flower in her hair, Mark can tell she belongs there from the second she sits down.  

\--- 

Mark learns about the differences between the houses fairly quickly from a fourth year named Youngho, who decides that Gryffindor and Slytherin are rivals and should not, under any circumstances befriend each other. His friend Yoonoh tells him he's being a hypocrite because Dongyoung is a Slytherin and they get along well enough. Mark frowns lightly at Youngho's resolution when he thinks about Lee Donghyuck's brown skin and bright smile, his green and silver robes. It shouldn't matter to him, but he finds himself hoping that Donghyuck will still befriend him anyway.  

Mark asks Yoonoh about Donghyuck that night, after Youngho has snuck out with a Hufflepuff, and the older just shrugs and explains that Slytherin is full of filthy rich pure-bloods, but that it doesn't necessarily make them all assholes. "Why do you care, anyways?" He asks. Mark shakes his head and gets up to go to bed, "He told me our wands have the same core and that it's supposedly pretty rare," he says, "But it's probably nothing too special." 

(When he's laying in bed later, the pillow hard and unfamiliar under his heavy head, he wishes on the bright stars outside the window that it does mean something.) 

\--- 

The year seems to pass by in a flash, and when summer comes and Mark still hasn't talked to Donghyuck for longer than a minute on end, he figures that it's probably nothing special after all. 

 

II.

The Gryffindor common room is very rarely empty, but the evening of the first quidditch match of the year seems to be an exception. Mark is spread out on the carpet in front of the fire, headphones on, listening intently to the music he brought from home. He's flicking his wand slightly at the flames, letting them flare up in the shape of tiny birds. Outside the sun has gone down, and he can't be bothered to turn on the lights, so he lets the darkness consume him and wonders when the homesickness will go away.  

When he's listened to Drake's latest album on repeat at least twice, he decides that he should get out, wander around the castle for a while, distract himself from the hollow feeling that the warmth of his own home can't fill anymore. (And although it's late, and he, as a second year, is not allowed to roam the hallways at this time of the evening, he figures that he won't get caught anyway, everyone being out on the quidditch pitch down the hill.) 

After strolling along the warm, candle-lit staircases of the upper part of the castle for about an hour, Mark deems it time to go back up to the Gryffindor tower. Except the stairs keep moving in the wrong directions and before he can properly orientate himself, he's down in the dungeons.  

Mark shivers when a gust of cold, humid air bites into the exposed skin of his arms. He scrunches up his nose at the musky smell of damp earth and walks down the dimly lit hallway to find somewhere to get back up. He turns a corner but quickly presses his back against the cool stone of the wall when he hears the sound of footsteps echoing from down the corridor. His breath hitches when the figure makes eye contact with him, quickly running toward him. (And Mark can't help but think about how screwed he is, because the Slytherin common room is down here somewhere and the last thing he needs right now is detention for lurking around their house.)  

"Mark?" A voice speaks up in surprise and Mark recognises it instantly. It's Donghyuck's, bright and pleasant, reverberating loudly through the hallways. "What the hell are you doing down here?" Mark shrugs and looks up to meet the other's shining eyes, "I got lost," he says softly, feeling his cheeks warm up under Donghyuck's gaze. "Yeah no shit," he laughs, and Mark feels how the sound turns into soft tingles running down his spine when it meets his ears, wonders why on earth the other makes him feel like that. 

"Aren't you cold?" Donghyuck asks, "Do you want me to get you a sweater or something?" Mark wants to deny and tell the other that he's going back to the towers anyway, but Donghyuck insists. "Be right back," he yells out as he quickly makes his way to his own common room. 

Mark stays where he is, listening to the vague sounds of chattering somewhere down the hallway. He thinks of how he shares nearly all of his classes with Donghyuck, maybe he should ask him to do homework together some time. 

Donghyuck comes running back five minutes later, a dark green knitted sweater in his hand, he hands it to Mark who gratefully pulls it over his head before noticing the Slytherin emblem on the chest. He shoots Donghyuck a pointed look, the other grins sheepishly, "It was the only one I could find," he defends himself, "You look cute in green by the way," he then adds with a smirk, and Mark kind of wants to hit him. (Mark also kind of wants to hold his hand. He ends up doing neither of those things and opting instead for lightly pushing the other away. "Is this the thanks I get, Mark Lee?" Donghyuck exclaims dramatically, Mark just nods and smiles, continues his way with Donghyuck in tow.) 

"Do you want to hang around for a bit?" Donghyuck suddenly asks after a while of comforting silence. Mark stops in his tracks and turns around, "I would like that," he says. Donghyuck smiles like the sun and Mark can feel himself melting. 

\--- 

The next morning Mark wakes up when the sun is already high in the sky. In the bed next to him Jeno glances at him with a puzzled look on his face. Mark wipes the remains of sleep from his blurry eyes and turns to look at him. "What?" He questions, mind full of golden light and Donghyuck's laugh. "Why are you wearing a Slytherin sweater?" Jeno asks and Mark can feel his cheeks start to heat up, "I was cold and someone had left it in the library so I decided to take it," he says, trying to come up with an excuse. Jeno narrows his eyes and pulls the scarlet quilt tighter around his broad shoulders, "Alright," he says, unconvinced but dropping the subject anyway, "Let's go join Renjun for breakfast." 

In the great hall they find Renjun at the Ravenclaw table next to Taeil and Taeyong. They discuss last night's apparently very interesting quidditch game for a while, and Mark zones out for a bit until he catches a glimpse of tan skin walking by him, and feels a warm hand on his shoulder in passing. "Donghyuck wait!" Mark yells, a little too loudly, and his friends all turn to him in confusion. Donghyuck walks over to them and wishes them all a good morning. "Your sweater?" Mark whispers, and Donghyuck just smiles at him before pursuing his way toward the Slytherin table. When he reaches it, he turns back to Mark and his friends, "You can keep my sweater, I have like a thousand anyways!" He calls, and Mark can feel the others' eyes on him. Jeno lets out a loud laugh, "The library my ass," he says and Mark lowers his head in shame and takes a bite of his apple, trying his very best to ignore Donghyuck's victorious laughter from the other side of the Great Hall. 

 

III. 

"Do you want to come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?" Jeno asks him, silently, to not disturb the other students in the library desperately trying to finish off their projects before the weekend, "Honeydukes is having a sale." Mark looks up from his transfiguration paper, quill dripping black ink down his fingers. "Sure," he nods, "I ran out of Ice Mice and Chocolate Frogs anyways." Jeno's face turns soft as he smiles, "I can't believe we're allowed to go there now, Youngho's always bragging with his Nose-biting Teacups from Zonko's, now we can finally get him back."  

Mark laughs as he remembers how Youngho and Ten, the Hufflepuff he used to sneak out with, hid Dungbombs in the second-year bathroom last year. Jeno smelled like rotten vegetables for days, the bathroom for weeks. Youngho and Ten both lost fifty points for their houses each, but ultimately decided that it had been more than worth it.  

"He deserves it," Mark concludes, wiping the ink of his stained fingers. He regrets not bringing ballpoint pens. 

\--- 

It starts snowing in the morning. Mark is sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, lazily munching on a spoonful of Pixie Puffs, shivering despite the two thick sweaters he's wearing. Jeno and Renjun aren't awake yet, but he finds Taeil talking to Yoonoh a couple of seats down the bench and scoots over to say hello. He picks up on their conversation before they spot him, it's about Donghyuck.  

"He's really sick," Taeil explains to Yoonoh, voice taking on a concerned tone, "Madame Pomfrey told me he might have to go home to get better." Mark feels an unpleasant feeling crawl into his stomach, it settles there like a heavy stone. He realises he can't remember when Donghyuck last sat next to him in their Defence Against The Dark Arts class.  

"What's wrong with him?" Mark and Yoonoh ask at the same time, Taeil turns around at the sound of Mark's worried voice, places a steady hand on the younger's shoulder. "They don't know what it is," he says, "But don't worry, we're taking him to a muggle doctor on Monday." Taeil's voice sounds like he trying to comfort all of them, but doesn't quite believe himself. "I hope he'll be okay by the time Christmas comes," Mark sighs. They all nod and smile, tell him it's probably nothing, yet the sinking feeling in Mark's stomach doesn't go away. 

\--- 

Hogsmeade is covered in a thin layer of snow when Mark, Jeno and Renjun walk onto the Main Street. On the end of the road is a long row of people waiting in front of Honeydukes, Mark thinks back to the row at Ollivander's years ago, and Donghyuck's shining eyes back then. The grey sky looming above predicts another snow storm. Mark buries his face in his red-and-yellow-striped scarf. 

"Damn it," Renjun swears, "I told you we should've gotten up earlier, look at that queue!" He gestures to the long line of people and pulls his blue woollen hat over his eyes in frustration. "We can just go to Three Broomsticks first," Mark suggests. He rubs his hands together, blows on them with his cloudy breath, "I'm freezing out here."  

They settle down at a wooden table in the back of the pub, damping butterbeers in front of them. Renjun and Jeno discuss the new Ravenclaw quidditch capitain. Renjun doesn't hide his distaste for the guy, loudly yelling how much of an arrogant brat he is. "The hat should've placed him in Slytherin," he sighs, banging his forehead on the table. Mark looks up from his drink, unwraps his hands from the warp cup and smacks Renjun lightly on the back of the head. "Don't say that," he scolds his friend, "You sound like an idiot insulting Slytherin."  

Mark often finds himself annoyed at his Ravenclaw and Gryffindor friends talking shit about Slytherin. It's not as if he's defending their past actions, but it gets to him when people tend to judge the Slytherin students based on their house. It always reminds him of how often he overhears people gossiping about Donghyuck in the hallways, calling him a spoiled brat or a sarcastic asshole. And Mark knows very well that Donghyuck is both of those things, but he's also nice and smart and takes Mark on midnight flights on his Nimbus 2014 when his quidditch practices are over.  

"It was a joke, what the hell, Mark," Renjun defends himself, rubbing his head where Mark hit him, "Chenle is in Slytherin too." Mark feels guilt flood him. He doesn't understand where this irritable feeling comes from, it must be the aching feeling in his stomach that hasn't left since breakfast, the lingering thought in the back of his brain that's screaming at him to check up on Donghyuck.  

"I'm sorry Renjun," he apologises, "I don't know what I was thinking, I-" Mark's sentence is cut off by the sound of the door slamming against the wall. In the doorway stands a boy, dark green hat and scarf decorated with flakes of white that shine like silver in the flickering light of the fire. He closes the door behind him, it seems like an arduous task, and shakes his head. Mark gasps when the boy lifts his head slightly. It's Donghyuck, except it doesn't look like him at all. His brown hair lies flat on his head, the glint of mischief is nowhere to be found in his tired eyes, the usual golden of his skin has made place for a sickly pale tint.  

"Hyuck what the hell are you doing here?" Mark yells incredulously, standing up too quickly, vision turning into splotches of black and blue for a split second. He goes over to where Donghyuck is standing, rests a hand on the other's back, supporting him, Donghyuck looks ready to collapse. "I wanted to see you before I went home," he whispers, throat hoarse, smiling weakly. His cheeks turn red, Mark can't tell if he's blushing or if it's the fever.  

The warmth of Donghyuck's hands in his creeps into his skin and warms him up from the inside out, the knot in his stomach has turned into electricity. "You're such and idiot," he laughs, resting his hands on the younger's burning cheeks, stroking them with his thumbs, "You need to rest." The snowflakes in Donghyuck's chestnut hair are melting from the heat of their proximity, the water trickles down his face like tears. "I'll be better soon," he tells Mark, "After Christmas we can fly on my broom again." Mark nods and pushes him out the door, carefully, to not let him fall, "Let's do that." 

He returns to the table in the back and meets Renjun's dark eyes, can almost see the questions in the younger's brain from the way he's looking at Mark. ("I think I understand now," Renjun says later, when it's been silent for a while and Mark's thoughts inevitably stray to Donghyuck's being. "Understand what?" Jeno asks, confused, Mark thinks he gets it. "Why you care so much.") 

 

IV.

The Headmaster informs them about the Yule Ball during Defence Against The Dark Arts. Donghyuck's thigh is pressed against Mark's under their table, a reassuring feeling leaks into his bloodstream whenever the younger touches him.  

"The Yule Ball is for fourth years and higher up students, so consider yourselves lucky to be able to take part in this ancient celebration," the Headmaster drones on about the ball. Next to him Donghyuck laughs silently and knocks his elbow into Mark's chest, "As ancient as him I'm assuming." Mark snorts and nearly drops his Curses book on the floor, the professor shoots them a stern look. "Anything to share, gentlemen?" She asks, the whole class turning their heads towards them. Renjun sighs next to Jeno, whispers something in his ear. (Mark figures it's probably about how he and Donghyuck always cause trouble together. He thinks it's alright, though, likes it that Donghyuck trusts him enough to let him be a part of his antics.) 

"Yes actually," Donghyuck speaks up, Mark notices the way his eyes glint, wonders what's going to come next. "Do you perhaps want to be my date for the ball, professor?"  

The Slytherins in the back break out into laughter at the incredulous look on their teacher's face, the Headmaster represses a smile. "I don't think that would be appropriate, mister Lee," she says, the corners of her lips turned down into a bitter scowl. "Too bad," Donghyuck retorts, and then silently, he adds, "I'll have to ask another one then."  

(Mark notes how his heart jumps, he won't ask Donghyuck for the Yule Ball anyways.) 

\--- 

It's Yerim who asks him, a couple of days before Christmas Eve, somewhere halfway the Gryffindor tower and the kitchens. "I wanted to ask someone else," she says, "But they already have a date, and you've been my best friend for years, so I thought this would be fun." Mark agrees with a smile, doesn't tell her that he wants to take someone else too. 

\--- 

"Do I look okay?" Jeno asks, fixing his robes in front of the wall mirror, ruffling his hair for what seems to be the hundredth time. "You look fine, Jeno," Mark whines as he pulls his friend down the spiral staircase to the common room where Yoonoh and Youngho are playing with Mark's cat, "By the time you get your hair the way you want it, it's New Years."  

The four of them make their way to the Great Hall, where the benches have been shoved aside to turn it into one big space. On the ceiling float thousands of lighted candles, and white snowflakes whirl just like they do outside, where the dark of the night allows the Hall to light up even brighter.  

"Oh, there's Ten," Youngho runs up to the Hufflepuff, beaming smile overtaking his features. When he's out of hearing distance Yoonoh says, "He didn't ask Ten to be his date, but goddamn he sure acts like his is." Mark and Jeno agree silently and settle down by the punchbowl.  

Yoonoh's date arrives next, chatting excitedly to Taeyong's as the four of them head onto the dance floor. Jeno sighs and looks up at the ceiling, "Where's Yerim?" He asks. Mark doesn't know. "I'm going to look for Jaemin," he says, taking a sip of his punch, and then he's gone. 

Mark sits around for a while longer before deciding to head to the Hufflepuff common room to wait there for Yerim. He pushes open the wooden door to the hallway that connects the kitchen to the Great Hall, underneath a candle holder sits Donghyuck, robes a bright red, hair styled into perfection, he looks like a prince, like a person who could change the world. Mark gasps, Donghyuck looks up with a startled scream. "What are you doing here by yourself?" He asks, trying to figure out if the other's eyes are red from crying or if the dim light is deceiving him.  

Dongyuck looks down at his feet, "I'm being pathetic," he says. Mark sits down next to him and takes his hand, it's warm, it's soft, it's undeniably Donghyuck. "I'm out here in the cold hallways, crying because I don't have a date to the ball," he crosses his arms over his chest and frowns, his lips turn down in a pout. Mark stifles a giggle at how cute he looks, wonders how Donghyuck manages to make him smile even when he's crying. "It's not funny, Mark." He flicks Mark on the forehead. 

The electricity runs in small shocks over the skin of his fingers where Donghyuck is touching them, Mark feels the urge to wrap his whole body around the younger to let his sunshine warmth seep into his bones, to escape from the freezing cold hallways in Donghyucks steady hands and never feel cold again.  

"Hey," he says, wrapping his arm around Donghyuck's shoulder, pulling the other into his chest, "It's okay to not have a date , you know. Yerim's mine, she's not exactly my first choice either, but she's my friend, so it's alright." He smiles, "And you're my friend, so that's alright too," he adds. Donghyuck looks at him with a wondering look, curious, bright, "Who was your first choice then?" He asks and Mark swallows around the lump in his throat, figures he should tell the truth.  

"You," he says, squeezing Donghyuck's hand. Donghyuck laughs, "What kind of bullshit. You don't like me." His words don't sound harsh at all, they're blunt and bold, but soft around the edges, careful like the way he links his slender fingers with Mark's. 

"I like you enough," Mark laughs and basks in the way Donghyuck shines.  

(They get drunk off of Hansol's firewhiskey later, find themselves in the astronomy tower, swallowed by the expanse of indigo skies all around them. "The phoenix feather in my wand is going crazy," Donghyuck says, "I can feel you when I hold it." Mark stares at the stars around him, hand on the wand in his pocket, "You're warm," he notes, "and you shine like all the stars combined." Donghyuck fake gags and laughs, "When did we become this sappy?" Mark reaches out to touch his burning cheeks, "You said it when we met, Hyuck, we're phoenix feather core buddies." Donghyuck is all he's ever wanted, "We'll never get rid of each other.") 

 

V.

"This is what I listen to," Mark tells Donghyuck as he hands him his iPod, showing him how it works, "And I want you to listen to it, because this is how I feel, like, all of the time." Donghyuck fumbles with the earbuds, "I'll miss you," he says and pulls Mark in for a hug, "Come over for my birthday, we'll go watch the quidditch world cup." Mark lets go and nods, "I'll miss you too, Hyuck. Summer is too endless sometimes."  

Donghyuck turns around to look back once more before joining Taeil and his father in their expensive car. He waves and Mark feels the sun shine on his skin. It's only two months, he tells himself, he missed Donghyuck for years. 

(It only takes two days for Donghyuck's first letter to arrive, Mark can't wait to tell him about texting.) 

 

VI.

"I'm going to fail all my exams," Donghyuck groans, as he rips a piece of parchment into pieces, "Fuck this potions bullshit."  

Mark lays his quill down and closes the inkpot between them, "You'll be fine dude," he bumps Donghyuck's knee under the table, "Just remember to put in two fairy wings and four drops of dragon blood instead of three and you're good. The examiners don't check the recipe anyway."  

The younger closes his book and looks out the window of the library. The sun is starting to set, painting their minds orange as it dies, and never lets Donghyuck concentrate again. "Let's go for a ride on my broom," he suggests, leaning his head in his hands, observing Mark as the latter finishes the final sentence of his Hippogriff essay. He looks up when he's done and looks Donghyuck straight in the eyes, tries to uncover the secrets that lay in his brain right behind his black irises. "Let's go," he eventually says, taking Donghyuck's warm hand in his and pulling him out the door. The other students shoot them looks of annoyance and jealousy, Mark finds that he doesn't care about them as his skin is set ablaze under Donghyuck's slight touch. 

They break into the Slytherin quidditch locker rooms with a quick _Alohomora_. "They never really think the locks through, do they?" laughs Donghyuck as he ascends his broom and allows Mark to climb on behind him. Mark wraps his hands around Donghyuck's waist as they begin to rise.  

They fly in circles over the Forbidden Forest for a while, the smell of pine trees filling the early summer air all around them. Donghyuck takes a dive down to the Dragon Den below, flies through the trees, avoiding and maneuvering skillfully. Mark holds on as tightly as he can, enjoying the familiar feeling of Donghyuck's broad back pressed against him, the wind raking its fingers through his hair.  

When they rise above the treetops once again, the sun is sinking below the rolling hills in the other side of the castle, scattered light reflecting from the rippled surface of the lake far below them. Donghyuck glows golden in the dying light, wrapped up in chasing the sun as it sinks faster, last rays of orange pulling them along. Mark is out of breath, Donghyuck descends and turns to look him right in the eye, final traces of light reflected as shining stars in his dark eyes, "I'm going to the water!" He yells, but the wind steals his words and Mark can only nod at how overwhelmed he is. 

They land, and Donghyuck lays down in the long grass on the lake shore, closes his eyes as the warmth of summer engulfs them. "That was breathtaking," Mark says after a while of waves splashing against the edge of the lake, relishing the feeling of Donghyuck's fingers linked with his. The moon peaks out from over the castle, bathing the world around them in a cold silver hue. Mark lets his fingers roam Donghyuck's face, traces his nose and eyelashes, his full lips.  

"Just kiss me, Mark," he says, after Mark has let his glowing fingertips linger there for a too long time. Mark isn't startled by Donghyuck's words, voice too soft to fully reach his ears, instead he smiles and strokes Donghyuck's cheek with his thumb. "Open your eyes, loser," he laughs breathlessly. Donghyuck does, and Mark bumps their noses together. "I'll kiss you if you pass your exams," he teases and Donghyuck sits up, too quickly for it to be casual and pushes Mark onto the grass. "No way," he retorts and pushes his lips onto Mark's with such a force that it almost hurts. Mark laughs into the kiss and tugs at Donghyuck's hair, it feels like getting his wand all over again, the warmth, the familiarity, the reassurance of it being there forever. (it was never Mark's plan to fall in love with Donghyuck, but he supposes it's been in his blood since the very beginning.) 

\--- 

Yoonoh, Youngho and Dongyoung are discussing their exam results when Mark joins them with a bowl of Pixie Puffs in the afternoon, white light shining through the windows as a reminder of how long he's slept. "Ah, sleeping beauty is awake, I see," Youngho jokes and Mark sticks his middle finger up, rubs the aftermath of his dreams from his tired eyes.  

"How were your exams?" Dongyoung asks and Mark shrugs, "Passed all of them." They congratulate him and ruffle his hair (he's their little brother, they say, Mark doesn't mind them at all). "How did Hyuck do?" asks Yoonoh, and Mark blinks at the mention of him, he knows they know, doesn’t know where they got it from. "I don't know, actually," he admits, "Haven't seen him since the day before yesterday." 

Right that moment, a whirlwind of green and silver comes storming into the Great Hall. Donghyuck runs to Mark with a piece of parchment in his hands, by his excitement Mark supposes he passed all of his exams. "I passed, I passed!" He yells and they all laugh as he sits down and instinctively reaches for Mark's hand. "You only passed potions," Dongyoung comments after reading the younger's results, "That's not good at all." Donghyuck shoots him a look, "Yeah it is, I though I was going to fail all of them but I passed potions thanks to Mark." 

Donghyuck is smiling so bright that it hurts Mark's head, but the warmth of theit linked hands fills him to the brim. "Great, man,' he says and kisses the corner of Donghyuck's mouth. "I just wanted to tell you that you lost actually, because I failed nearly all my exams and still got to kiss you," he states, poking Mark's cheek, and then runs back to the Slytherin table to spread the news there. 

"Charming," Dongyoung says, turning to look at Donghyuck gesturing wildly in an attempt to explain something to his friends. Mark smiles, "You have no idea." 

 

**Author's Note:**

> the hogwarts au no one asked for bc my procrastinating ass started rereading the hp books instead of my books for school (who cares about graduating right?) so yeah heres 6k and a bit of hogwarts bullshit.  
> also wtf i miss donghyuck like yalls did him so dirty with those rumours and im ready to fight a bitch, i just want him to smile again shit.  
> kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


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